


Sound Waves

by philos_manthanein



Series: Kadir Is A Problem [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Public Embarassment, Relationship Outing, Romance, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 02:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10754631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philos_manthanein/pseuds/philos_manthanein
Summary: Travis airs something he really doesn't want to in order to protect the dignity of his ass.





	Sound Waves

It was a simple, horrifying request. Travis couldn’t believe he was hearing it. At the outset this guy, Kadir, had simply asked him to air a holotape. An ad, he said, then corrected himself saying it was more of a love letter. Travis thought it was kind of sweet, the idea at least. It wasn’t the first time someone had asked him to dedicate a song to someone, or even let them borrow the mic for a marriage proposal.

But this? This was something actually horrible and embarrassing and just all kinds of wrong. It’s a woman speaking, how Kadir managed to find anyone to recite this filth is anyone’s guess, speaking in a typical Midwestern American accent. The things she is saying, so perky and sweet, are revolting.

It’s a minute-long poem.

About a man’s penis.

It is extremely graphic.

Travis has to stop the tape nary 20 seconds into his screening of it because he feels the heat of his embarrassment might cause him to combust. He vaguely wonders who on Earth could Kadir be dedicating such a thing to. He looks up at Kadir wide-eyed and nervous. Kadir is grinning down at him, but in a less friendly and more ominous way. Travis swallows loudly.

“I-I can’t air th-this!” He stutters nervously.

“Sure you can.” Kadir coos, his tongue licking over his teeth like a hungry dog.

Kadir is kind of short, but strong. His dark brown skin is covered in lots of black tattoos, most of them looking scratched-in and vulgar like he made them himself. His eyes are hidden behind a pair of large sunglasses, but Travis still somehow feels like his stare is piercing through him. He has a shock of bright blond hair that is cut unevenly and it seems like it’s forcibly combed against its natural texture. His clothes are a mix-match of a t-shirt and jeans with seemingly random bits of leather armor and weapon holsters. All in all the guy is strange and scary.

“P-Please, I really can’t.” Travis pleads, shrinking a little in his seat. “Diamond City Radio has- we have st-standards-“

That’s when Kadir swoops in, suddenly crowding what little personal space Travis had left in his cramped trailer. He’s suddenly faced with that devil’s smile up close. When he tries to push away, Kadir just gets closer. He can smell the lingering tobacco and chems on his breath, feels the heat of it against his nose. Kadir slams his hand down on the table next to Travis, it makes Travis jump and whimper. Travis feels his heartbeat catch in his throat.

“Air the tape,” Kadir practically growls, “Or I will shove this microphone so far up your ass the whole Commonwealth will hear when your little boyfriend at the Dugout cums inside you.”

Travis suddenly feels like all the air has been punched from his lungs. He instantly thinks about Vadim.

“How- How do you know about that?” Travis asks, his voice high-pitched and airy with stress.

Kadir’s feral grin just widens. He finally pulls back, standing straight. Travis takes a deep breath, though he still feels enormously tense.

“So, we got an agreement?” Kadir asks, pulling a cigarette from the pack he has rolled into his sleeve.

“F-Fine, okay, I’ll- I’ll air it.”

“Good boy.” Kadir says before he lights his cigarette and drags.

Travis waits, but Kadir doesn’t leave. He’s apparently going to wait and make sure Travis actually does it. So much for Travis’ hope that he could lock the door behind him and throw that disgusting tape in the trash forever. Much to his eternal shame, Travis nervously pulls the tape from the player he uses to screen, and pops it into the on-air player. He makes a short, very clipped and nervous announcement, then hits play. Then he hides his hot red face in his hands, thinking about all the men, women, and _children_ currently listening to Kadir’s smut tape.

Kadir just pats Travis on the shoulder, but Travis can’t bring himself to look at him. Something drops to the table; it sounds like a sack of caps. Finally, Kadir exits the trailer, letting the door slam shut, leaving behind the acrid smell of smoke.

Hours later, after the sun has set, Travis puts the station on a long playlist. Usually he records the day broadcast, then replays it overnight. He does not want to replay today’s show. He wants to forget this day existed. He pulls both the day’s entire recording and Kadir’s holotape and attempts to snap them in half. When that doesn’t work, he grabs a hammer out of the toolbox near his bed and smashes them to pieces. Then he feels kind of stupid, because he could have just recorded over them. Now he has to buy a new large-capacity holotape to record his future shows.

That is if he’s not run out of the city by a wave of offended listeners.

It’s enough to make him not want to leave the trailer, but he does. He’s extremely stressed out, and when he’s stressed he goes to see Vadim. Vadim always seems to know exactly what to say or do, always has some sort of plan. It’s not always a good plan, but the fact that he tries to help alone is more than what anyone else does for him. It’s why Travis considers Vadim his best friend. It’s why he loves him so much.

The walk to the Dugout is surprisingly uneventful. It’s dark and most people have either gone home or to the bars. He does pass a security guard, but the guard doesn’t even look at him. The brief moment of thinking maybe he’ll be okay is shattered the moment he walks into the Dugout.

Everyone stares at him. It’s like the second he walked in, everything went still. Travis is petrified, because he knows they all heard that despicable tape. Then a few of them start snickering, then others outright laugh, but all of them are still looking at him and Travis feels like he wants to turn and run. The only thing that stops him is Vadim, who waves him over from behind the bar.

Travis takes a deep breath and walks forward. He keeps his eyes trained on Vadim; if he looks at anyone else he will lose what little nerve he has. He climbs into a seat and he knows the way he’s looking at Vadim must be pitiful because Vadim looks so sympathetic.

Yafim leaves his usual spot near the entrance to the inn rooms to stand near Vadim. He also looks sympathetic, though in a way different from his brother. Yafim looks like he’s going to say something, like he’s trying to pick his words carefully.

“Look, maybe it is not such a good night for you to be here.” Yafim says slowly, always a little more conscientious about not letting his accent muddy his words than Vadim.

“Nonsense! He is exactly where he belongs!” Vadim pipes up, already setting to making Travis a drink.

Travis knows it’s for him, because he’s the only person who Vadim serves drinks to in the little coffee cup with the cats on it.

“Everyone already heard the ad, I-I know.” Travis whines a little, hanging his head.

“Well yes, but I think it is more about the bit before that,” Yafim clarifies, “You know, about you and Vadim?”

Travis feels his stomach bottom out. Oh no. Suddenly the world feels so sharp. When Kadir slammed his hand down on the table, he hit the button on the microphone base. Everyone heard _everything_.

“Oh, Oh God…” Travis sobs, feeling like he is going to burst into flames from the shame.

Again, he hides his face in his hands, then slumps forward, burying nearly his whole head in his arms. He feels like crying. Okay, maybe he is crying, because he’s scared.

He’s scared that this will be the end of his relationship with Vadim, as it currently exists anyway. Vadim is so kind to him, cares about him, but he’s also got a reputation to uphold. He’s the loud and highly masculine bar owner that pals around with both the security guards and big, buff shady characters that do deals in alleyways. How is anyone going to respect him now that they know he’s been fucking that squealy little nerd on the radio?

Minutes go by and the bar resumes its usual litany of droning noise. Travis stops crying, but can’t bring himself to sit up straight. He can’t stand the idea of looking at anything right now. He wants to go home, but is too frozen by his anxiety, knowing the moment he moves they are all going to start staring again. Of course, it’s Vadim that finally brings him back into reality.

“Hey, come on,” Vadim’s voice is so uncharacteristically quiet, a tone Travis is used to only in their most private moments together, “Travis, look at me.”

Travis finally lifts his head just enough to uncover his eyes. Vadim is leaning over the bar, his arms resting next to Travis’. He has his chin propped on one of his arms, so they’re almost eye-to-eye. He’s smiling softly, looking at Travis like they’re all alone. Travis feels something break inside him again.

“I’m sorry.” Travis says, his voice wavering, practically choking. “I’m s-so, so sorry, Vadim. I-“

Vadim shakes his head a little and reaches one hand out to gently brush the backs of his fingers over Travis’ cheek. He runs them over his ear and lightly pets his hair.

“It is okay, Travis. It’s fine.” Vadim soothes. “It is not the worst thing that could happen.”

“H-How?” Travis is shocked. “How isn’t this the w-worst thing ever?!”

“Well,” Vadim laughs a little which only adds to Travis’ confusion, “It means I can now do this.”

Vadim kisses him. Right there over the bar, in front of everyone, Vadim kisses Travis so sweetly that Travis feels like he’s going to melt right into Vadim. It’s like the very first time Vadim kissed him breathless in the backroom. His heart is suddenly bursting in his chest. From the crowd of patrons comes several whispers, then a cheer, then several cheers and even some clapping.

When they part, Vadim is grinning, his eyes looking so adoringly at Travis. Travis returns the gaze, more sheepishly. He sits up a little straighter. He picks up his neglected cat cup and sips at his drink, sparing a cautious glance around and noticing all the warm smiles directed at him. He looks away again, because he’s still embarrassed but for a much happier reason. Vadim rests his palm over Travis’ free hand, rubbing his thumb warmly over Travis’ bony knuckles.

Travis is still worried about the broadcast. He knows a lot of people are probably going to be upset, and he’ll have to give explanations he’s not entirely sure he’ll be able to articulate adequately. But he’s not scared, because whatever happens he knows he’ll still have Vadim.


End file.
